


change is coming, it's our time now

by bellamythology (onemanbellarmy)



Series: Bellarke AU Week 2015 [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Met on the Ark, Bellarke AU Week, F/M, Revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 13:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4394027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemanbellarmy/pseuds/bellamythology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven looked up from the arsenal she was still adding to, struck — not for the first time — by the picture they made. Whether they knew it or not, the two were well-matched: dark hair and unflinching dark eyes against princess-fair blonde hair and blue eyes undercut by her determined air. Standing shoulder to shoulder, hands joined, they were quite a force to be reckoned with, the rebel king and the princess of the Ark. (Bellarke AU Week Day 1.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	change is coming, it's our time now

**Author's Note:**

> My first contribution to Bellarke AU Week! Title from "People Like Us" by Kelly Clarkson.

He was twenty, hardened and rebellious and dangerous in his determination to succeed.

She was seventeen, young and thoughtful and innocent despite all she’d seen and done.

And yet they stood side by side, two sides of the same revolutionary coin, and watched these young delinquents — their people — prepare to take on the Council and all who would fight to protect the existing system.

“One more day,” Bellamy said softly.

“One more day,” Clarke echoed in agreement.

Raven looked up from the arsenal she was still adding to, struck — not for the first time — by the picture they made. Whether they knew it or not, the two were well-matched: dark hair and unflinching dark eyes against princess-fair blonde hair and blue eyes undercut by her determined air. Standing shoulder to shoulder, hands joined, they were quite a force to be reckoned with, the rebel king and the princess of the Ark. 

* * *

 

Bellamy had always known that there was no way that he could live out his life under the aristocracy that so unfairly ruled the Ark, ruled over all that remained of the human race. He was a boy who grew up reading of kings and their downfalls, gods of men and the heroes who brought them down. He was a young man born with revolution in his blood, the steel in his soul tempered by the adversity he’d faced.

Now he was a guard — an active member of the system he was trying to change — and while he didn’t like it any better than his original place at the bottom of the social order, it was an advantageous position from which to mount a revolution. Plus, at any moment they might change their minds and strip him of his title (as they’d stripped his sister of her freedom and their mother of her life). He needed to work fast.

Clarke had grown up one of the privileged he so despised — not a care in the world, her foreseeable and predictable future secured by previous generations. But she’d grown up a doctor’s daughter, and it hadn’t been long before those shrewd eyes had observed the imbalance even in medical treatment. Those of her social standing could afford expensive and extensive procedures for even the most minor maladies, while those of lower classes were doomed to death or disability from treatable conditions.

She was now a medical apprentice, and who better poised to take down Ark high society than one of its own? Her so-called friends didn’t seem to notice the change in her, and it only cemented her certainty that things needed to change — there was literally no one on the Ark who had a truly pleasant life.

Of course they’d originally butted heads. Bellamy was extreme, reckless, all passion with little regard for potential fallout. He was intelligent, sure, but he’d lost his patience when they’d floated his mother and locked up his sister. Clarke was more reserved, wanting to stop and think everything through before making a decision.

Then came the time they stayed behind past curfew. It was a few weeks in and they’d reached a grudging truce, managing to work together as co-leaders of the movement they’d started. Tonight they needed to finalize some lingering issues, iron out some wrinkles in the existing plan before they presented it to the others. This was, after all, a young people’s rebellion: the next generation taking back its right to have a say in the governing of their home; the leaders needed to present an unshakable, unified front if they were to succeed.

“It’s late,” Clarke said finally. “We’re not going to get anything else done tonight; we should head home.”

Bellamy wanted to argue just for the sake of arguing, but his situation was already precarious, and trying to spearhead a coup de grace wasn’t helping. “Fine.”

They were walking down the hallway together, as had become their habit, when approaching footfalls made both of them freeze.

“I don’t have an excuse to be out this late,” Bellamy realized, trying to hide his growing anxiety. “I’m not on patrol today, and they know it. Even if I was, I’m not assigned to this sector.”

Clarke’s eyes widened slightly, then narrowed as she put that quick brain to use. “Okay,” she said after a moment. “Trust me?”

He barely had to consider. “Of course.” They had their differences, but she had become one of the few people he felt he could actually count on.

She wasted no time, shoving him against the wall and just going for it.

Her lips swarmed his, warm and eager. Before he knew it he was pulling her closer with a hand on her back and one in her hair, and there was a little whimper in the back of her throat that he really wanted to hear again.

When his brain had finally gotten past the _holy shit, we’re making out_ loop it had been stuck in — or at least enough to realize that the footsteps had already faded; evidently whoever it was had gone the other way — he pulled away slowly. Or, well, tried to. (Being already backed up against a wall, there wasn’t really anywhere he could go.) Despite the situation, he couldn’t help smirking when she tried to follow, probably without even realizing she was doing it. “Hang on a sec, princess,” he murmured, letting his head drop to her shoulder. “Let a guy catch his breath, won’t ya?”

A smile quirked the corner of her mouth. “You complaining, Blake?”

“Not at all.”

Then suddenly the guard on patrol was there, watching them with a bemused smirk. _Kids these days,_ his raised eyebrow seemed to say. “You youngsters done making out?”

The two pulled apart to glare at him, and his eyes widened. “Miss Griffin. Guardsman Blake.”

Then Clarke giggled, and Bellamy couldn’t help the way he knew his gaze softened as it returned to her. It wasn’t a sound he’d heard her make before, and he knew it wasn’t one he was likely to hear again. (That only made him all the more determined to make it happen.)

“Sorry, guardsman,” she breathed, resting her cheek against Bellamy’s shoulder and leaning in to link their hands together. “You gonna report us?”

The guard’s supercilious grin was infuriating, but Bellamy held his tongue since it was seeming more and more like they were going to make it out of this.

“This time,” said the guard. “First and last warning.” But he was still smirking, and there was no real severity to the words. “Get on home now, both of you.”

“Yes, sir.” Clarke smiled sweetly as she headed down the hallway, pulling Bellamy after her.

Once they were out of earshot, he stopped in his tracks to pin her with a half-bemused stare. “Really, princess? You do realize that’s about the most cliché tactic that exists.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” But her cheeks were flushed and she was avoiding his gaze.

“Hey.” He reached out, placing two gentle fingers under her chin to make her look at him. “What’s going on in the brain under those pretty blonde locks?”

She half-smiled. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Technically, I said that your _hair_ is pretty. But sure.”

She let out a soft breath, almost a surprised laugh. “Okay. Well, this is where we split, so … Good night.”

“’Night, princess.”

She paused after a few steps. “Hey, Bellamy?”

“Yeah, princess?”

“I think you’re pretty too.”

He couldn’t help his grin. “Go to bed, princess.”

Smiling genuinely now, she waved at him cheerily and headed inside.

Once she was out of sight, Bellamy released a long, slow breath. He was so screwed. 

* * *

 

The day of their coup, the young people of the Ark — most of whom, between Clarke’s connections and Bellamy’s ability to rile up a crowd with his words, were in the know about what was to come — buzzed with a tension that the adults somehow managed to miss. Or if they noticed it, they probably chalked it up to some kind of negligible teenage mischief. What damage could mere kids do, right?

Wrong. So, so wrong.

First there was a bomb in Mecha station. Raven and Wick exchanged a discreet high five when they heard the news of the damage it had wreaked on the systems, and Clarke and Bellamy exchanged a quick glance.

The revolution had begun.

**Author's Note:**

> Cry with me on [Tumblr](http://befreckledrebelking.tumblr.com)!


End file.
